


Domestic Harmonies 3: The Bathroom (All Steamed Up)

by Mizmak



Series: Domestic Harmonies [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizmak/pseuds/Mizmak
Summary: Part 3 of a eight-part slice-of-life series set (mostly) in the South Downs cottage, where Crowley and Aziraphale learn how to live in domestic harmony.  Things get a little steamy when Crowley shows Aziraphale how to enjoy a modern shower, and a soaking tub.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Domestic Harmonies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762777
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	Domestic Harmonies 3: The Bathroom (All Steamed Up)

The evening after they moved in to their new cottage, Crowley wanted a nice, long soak in a nice, big tub, which was when he discovered that the only bathroom was far too small, as was its clawfoot tub.

So he took the whole room out with a lot of demonic, miraculously invisible sledgehammers.

“Don’t you think we ought to hire a local contractor to do the work?” Aziraphale asked when he saw the rubble. 

“Why? I’m going to snap it back in _minutes_ , not months. Bigger, better, and fancier. Shower big enough for two, multiple shower heads, bench, sauna feature, heated floor, soaking tub. Just watch.”

“But it won’t fit in with the rest of the cottage, my dear. Far too modern! A local worker will know what is best suited for the house. I adore how old-fashioned this home is, with the wooden beams and the thatched roof and the bow windows with the window seats and—“

Crowley snapped his fingers to turn the old-fashioned bathroom from a room full of rubble into a sleek, marble-lined wonder. Another snap produced the state-of-the-art shower, and a third one added the enormous soaking tub. “Don’t say ‘no’ until you’ve tried it, Angel.”

“Yes, but—does it have to be so dark?”

“Nope.” Crowley used another miracle to change the slate gray walls to white streaked with gold. “How’s that?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened at that. “Well, that _is_ rather lovely.”

“Right.” Crowley rubbed his hands together. “When do you want to test it out? How about now?” He had visions of daily soakings and saunas together, and he looked forward to lavishing a lot of loving attention, in addition to soap, on his best friend.

“Why? We don’t _need_ to use showers or bathtubs. We’re not human. We don’t smell, and when we acquire dirt, we can simply miracle it away.”

Crowley’s fantasies drowned in a sea of disappointment. “You don’t take showers?”

“No.”

“Or baths?”

Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “I tried the Roman baths once. Bit noisy.”

_“Once?”_

“Yes. Well, unless you count that holy water bath in Hell, which I hardly do. I mean, really, there wasn’t even a rubber duck.”

_Damn_. “Would you mind trying it again, please? I thought you enjoyed human pleasures.”

“Is it, though? I cannot honestly say that putting water all over one’s body and then wiping it off again constituted pleasure.”

“You only tried it once, and clearly you didn’t do it right. Not in a great big pool full of chatty Romans—you have to do it in a quiet, private place, preferably with someone you’re extremely fond of who can reach the hard-to-reach spots.”

“Hm. Possibly you have a point.” Aziraphale walked around the new, bigger bathroom, examining the features carefully. “Perhaps I do need to try it again.” He raised his eyebrows. “With someone to show me the way?”

_That was more like it_. 

Crowley made sure the floor-warming system was working properly, and then he dimmed the lights a little. “Clothes off works best, I find.” 

Aziraphale fingered his vest. “What, all of them?”

Was that a blush? “Not embarrassed, are you? Angel, we sleep in the same bed.”

“Wearing pyjamas.”

“Which you put on after taking off _all_ of your clothes. Besides, I’ve been _in_ your corporation.” Crowley slowly removed his shirt. 

“Well, yes, I suppose you have.” Aziraphale sighed and began taking off the many layers that covered his corporation’s many charms.

Which Crowley duly admired as the process, which took rather a long time, came to a finish.

He’d managed to divest himself of his clothing in under a minute, and while waiting, he’d turned on the shower and got it up to a steaming hot spray. And he had produced shampoo, and soap in liquid form, and put the bottles on a handy shower shelf. _All set_.

He wanted this to be the best bathing experience his friend had ever had, so that he’d want to do this all the time.

“I thought we were having a bath,” Aziraphale said as Crowley held the shower door open.

“Shower first. Clean off any dirt before hitting the tub, so you’re not soaking in your own grime.”

“I’m _ethereal,_ ” Aziraphale huffed. “I do not have _grime_.”

“Whatever. You’ll like it. Get in, Angel.”

With a sigh, he complied, and they stepped into the shower.

“Ooh, hot.”

“Sorry.” Crowley turned the temperature down a smidgen. “That’s right, get under there good.” Even with the multiple shower heads, they needed to stand ever so close together to get the full force of the water as it pulsed over them in caressing waves.

“Despite your lack of grime,” he said as he squirted some soap into his hands, “I think you might enjoy the cleansing routine. Turn your back to me.”

“Very well, but I don’t see how—ooh!”

Crowley grinned at the little sounds of pleasure which Aziraphale continued to make as he massaged the soap over his back muscles. “See? It’s _nice_.”

“ _Ah_ …indeed…mmm…lower, please—a little to the left… _oh my_.”

As he continued working the soap over his dear friend’s back, rubbing gently at the lovely taut skin, Crowley spared a moment to kiss the back of the angel’s neck, and then quickly licked at the warm wetness there. 

“Oh! My dear!” 

“Liked that, hm?”

“It hardly seems fair, though—I seem to be getting all of the attention.” Aziraphale turned towards him then, and brought his arms round his waist. “Shouldn’t I return the favor?” 

“Not a bad idea.”

Warm water cascaded over their heads as they stood embraced there. Crowley closed his eyes, and tilted his head up to let it wash over his face. Then he leaned downward to kiss Aziraphale, steamy water touching their lips as they met. 

The kiss lasted a long time, and as they kissed, they ran their hands over each other’s slick bodies, exploring, caressing, pressing tightly together in a perfect meld. 

When the kiss ended, Aziraphale pulled away a little, and twisted round to find the soap bottle. He filled his hands, rubbing them together, and then stroked the foamy lather over Crowley’s chest.

_Heavenly_ …the touch of his angel’s hands was light but sure, and Crowley gasped as his body quivered in ecstasy beneath the caresses. He put a hand round Aziraphale’s neck, and spread his fingers through his damp hair, before pulling him into another soft kiss.

They stayed beneath the pulsating shower for a long time, soothing away all tension in each other’s bodies, until the room became so filled with steam they could barely see.

“Think we’d better stop now,” Crowley admitted reluctantly. He turned off the tap. 

Aziraphale sighed. “That was wonderful.”

“Not done yet, though. There’s still the tub.”

“Hm? Oh, yes. I forgot all about it. That was the point of this lovely shower, wasn’t it? To get cleaned up for the bath. Not that we actually needed to, but I must say, it was rather refreshing.”

The steam dissipated enough to see the tub. Crowley stepped out of the shower and padded over to it to turn on its tap. “ _Fill quickly_ ,” he told it in no uncertain terms. Then he miracled up a bottle of bubblebath, and poured in a goodly amount.

“Ah, the floor is delightfully warm,” Aziraphale said as he walked over. “Might we put heated floors in the rest of the cottage, for when winter arrives?”

“Don’t see why not. Brilliant invention.”

The bathtub dutifully filled with hot foaming water, and bubbles covered the surface. They climbed in, Crowley at one end, facing Aziraphale at the other, both sinking down with just their heads above the water, and with their legs intertwined.

“A definite improvement on the last bath I took,” Aziraphale said.

“I’ve got something to make it even better.” Crowley snapped his fingers.

A small circle of clear water formed amid the bubbles, in the center of the huge tub, and there, two rubber ducks floated. One was red with two black horns, while the other was white with a golden halo.

Aziraphale threw back his head and laughed, and Crowley joined in.

Then he flicked his hand in the water, sending a small wave across that sent the ducks into a bouncing swirl, knocking into each other. The ducks were quite daft, but they made him happy, and they made his angel happy, and what did it matter then if they were just silly toys? 

He sighed contentedly. After six thousand years filled with uncertainties, it was utterly blissful to feel so _ordinary_. And so loved.

Crowley rubbed his foot against Aziraphale’s smooth calf. “I think I could do this forever.” 

“What—fondle my leg?”

“Well, yeah—that, too.” He returned the angel’s soft smile. “I meant, _this_ as in being here with you, in a quiet place of our own, without the world intruding in any way.”

He felt Aziraphale’s foot stroke his own leg as he replied, “Yes, _this_ is more than I ever expected to have—and I want it to last. We’ve earned it, my dear.”

Crowley blew a few of the bubbles towards him. “Changed your mind about the value of a quality bathroom yet?”

“It has definite temptations, which I have fully succumbed to.”

“You’d do it again, then?”

“Possibly with a few slight improvements. Nothing against your tastes, of course, but don’t you think a little music would be nice?” Aziraphale flicked his fingers, and the bathroom filled with the soft strains of a romantic tune. “Adagio for viola. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“No bebop?” 

“Don’t be absurd. Now then, a bit more atmosphere, I think.” He snapped his fingers again, and several lit candles appeared around the tub rim as the bathroom lights dimmed even more. “Ah. That’s better.”

“Downright romantic, Angel.” 

“Well, we _are_ romantic, aren’t we?”

Crowley nodded. He supposed they must be, in their own unusual fashion—as best friends, and nonhuman spiritual beings—who happened to love each other. “Did your lot invent it, or did the humans think it up all on their own?”

“Not certain. But I’d like to think the humans came up with the concept—from my experience, Heaven hasn’t got a clue about the mystery and excitement surrounding romance.”

Crowley doubted it as well. “No. Definitely not. Clever humans.”

“Indeed. And since we’ve ‘gone native’ in so many other ways, it’s no wonder we adopted their romantic notions, too.”

“Humans got a lot of things wrong, Angel. But in the most important ways, they got things very, very right. Even if I could, I wouldn’t trade this for Heaven.”

“Nor would I.” Aziraphale moved through the deep, foamy water then, slipping between Crowley’s legs to slide up against him, chest touching his, and he steadied his arms on Crowley’s shoulders as he kissed him, slowly lavishing touch after touch.

Crowley wrapped his arms around him as Aziraphale trailed light kisses along his throat, and he raised himself up above the water more as the angel caressed his shoulders with his lips, and then his chest, before returning to his mouth, where they joined once more in another long adoration.

Candlelight flickered around them as they embraced, and the sweet melody of the adagio floated through the air as the warm water caressed their bodies. Crowley lay back, Aziraphale nestled alongside him. He wondered idly if there weren’t something more he could add, if it was possible to improve on perfection.

Of course there was.

With a little demonic miracle, he produced two flutes of champagne.

As he handed one over, he said, “I’d like to propose a toast.”

Aziraphale plucked the glass from his hand. “Go on, then, my dear.”

Crowley held up his glass and said, “To bathing, and to imaginary dirt.”

They clinked glasses. As they sipped their champagne, Aziraphale said, “We do have a garden now, you know. We might acquire some dirt that isn’t so imaginary.”

“Oh, good point.” He’d forgotten about that. “We can muck about every day out there, if we like, and then we’ll _have_ to wash up afterwards.”

“Agreed. No more using miracles to clean up for _me_.”

“No?”

“I’ve decided that the human method is quite fine after all.”

“Good. Glad that’s sorted.”

“So am I.”

They finished their champagne, and after a time the bubbles faded away, and they were as clean as they were ever likely to get. They climbed out of the tub, and Crowley produced two extra-large, extra-fluffy, warm white cotton bath towels, which they put to good use on each other.

“Love you, Angel,” Crowley whispered as he finished rubbing the towel over Aziraphale’s hair.

“I love you, too.” Aziraphale hugged him, wrapped in warm cotton. “And I do love that we’re here. I love that we’re _home_.”

Crowley repeated the word silently to himself a few times. _Home_. Yes. This was still so new, and so different, and yet it was so very right and good. 

“Home,” he said aloud. He nodded, and smiled, and then took Aziraphale’s hand, twining their fingers together. “ _Yes_. Wherever you are, is _home_.”

After that evening, the bathroom became one of their favorite rooms in the cottage. 

And the garden plot became ever so attractive to work at, especially digging about in the dirt.


End file.
